Story of Hope
Advocate Impact Story
In early 2016, a sibling group of six children entered CPS care due to allegations of neglectful supervision. In addition, the mother and children had been residing in a home with a family member who the mother said had sexually abused her when she was a child. As is the case for many large sibling groups, these children had to be split up in order to be placed. A CASA was definitely needed to ensure that these children’s needs would be met and their bond could be maintained. Newly sworn- in Advocate, Heidi Gildersleeve, was drawn to this large sibling group case for her first case because some of the children were multi-racial and the department had concerns of mistreatment by a family member in the home due to their race.
Throughout the next year and a half, Heidi advocated for the best interest of all of the children. The children all had different needs, but most of them were adjusting well to their foster homes. However, Jason, the oldest child, was having a difficult time adjusting to foster care and being away from his family. He struggled with anger and aggression which resulted in multiple placement changes. When it came time for trial, both Heidi and the children’s ad litem recommended that only Jason be returned to his mother’s care. The mother had completed her services and seemed to be in a better place. Since Jason was older, he would be able to speak up if he did not feel safe at home. But the judge and the Department still had concerns and all parents’ rights were terminated.
Most of the children were in their forever homes, but not Jason. He watched as all his siblings began to get adopted. In 2019, the last sibling was adopted and Jason was still not in an adoptive placement. Heidi was committed to stick with him, though, as she knew the importance of providing support for him until he had permanency.
One of Heidi’s main goals was for Jason to stay connected with family after the siblings’ adoptions. She facilitated sibling visits so that the children could see each other. Heidi advocated for Jason to be placed with a sibling in her adoptive home and though the foster parents eventually agreed to it, the placement did not last long due to Jason’s behaviors and not being able to manage his anger. When Jason told Heidi about an aunt that he had been in contact with, she immediately reached out to the CPS caseworker to inquire if this aunt could be studied for placement. Ultimately, the aunt was not able to be a placement, but due to Heidi’s persistence, the aunt was cleared to have visits with Adam, providing that family connection that he was yearning for.
As with many cases, there were multiple changes in CPS caseworkers and at one point, family members came forward that wished to be considered for placement. They began phone calls and visits with Jason. Heidi, knowing the background of this case, had relevant safety concerns and informed the new caseworker of these concerns. She recommended to the caseworker that Jason have only supervised contact with them and explained the history. The caseworker was grateful that Heidi had shared her knowledge of the case and a potentially harmful situation had been avoided.
As time went on, Jason became more and more upset that he was still in foster care. He told his CASA that he just wanted to be like “normal” teens and do “normal” things. He began running away from his placements and in January of 2020, he ran away and was gone for two weeks. When he was picked up, he was placed in a shelter near Corpus Christi. Because of the distance, Heidi was not able to go see him immediately, and then the pandemic started and she was unable to have any face to face visits. While he was at the shelter, Heidi maintained phone contact with him and his staff until he was eventually placed back in San Antonio in May of 2020.
Once in his new placement, Jason once again started running away. This is when Heidi started thinking outside the box. Jason had struggled so much in placements because he just didn’t feel like he belonged. He wanted to be with family and wanted to feel “normal”. While discussing the case with her CASA Supervisor, Heidi suggested that CPS look into Jason’s birth mom to see if she could be a viable placement for him. Heidi was aware that Jason had been contacting his mom through social media. Because Heidi had built a positive relationship with his mother prior to her rights being terminated, Heidi was comfortable with this idea of her being a potential option for placement. With the caseworker’s permission, Heidi reached out to Jason’s mother and talked with her about her current situation and whether she would be able to provide a safe, suitable home for Jason. Heidi was pleased to find out that his mom had stable housing and employment. At a placement review hearing in May 2020, the caseworker proposed this idea of reunification with Jason’s mother to Judge Montemayor and he was in agreement that it was time to be more creative with our permanency plan for Jason.
In June 2020, Jason was placed back with his birth mom. Due to the pandemic, Heidi was still unable to do a home visit, but she maintained contact with Jason and his mom regularly through phone calls and offered support, as needed. Heidi advocated for therapy for Jason, as well as family therapy to assist with the reintegration process after all these years. CPS and CASA monitored Jason in his mothers’ home for four months and there were no major concerns. In October 2020, after spending more than four years in the foster care system, Jason’s CPS case was finally closed and he and his mother now get to enjoy their new “normal” together. Thank you, Heidi, for dedicating your time to this youth and being there for him as he changed placements at least five times over the years. You demonstrated the true heart of a CASA Advocate and were that constant that is so vital to our kids.
My name is Dan Williams, and I am the CASA for an amazing 17-year-old young man. This is my first case as a CASA, and the experience has not only been inspiring and motivating—it has opened my eyes to the urgent needs of our transitioning and aging-out teens. When I first met him in November, he was 16 (turning 17 just three weeks later) and enrolled in 9th grade at a public school. He told me he was doing fine and passing everything. But when I contacted the school, I learned he was actually failing all his classes, chronically absent, and when present, often asleep or in trouble for aggressive behavior toward peers and teachers. He was on juvenile probation and living with a girlfriend who wasn’t enrolled in school and didn’t want to return home. Despite all this, he was polite and pleasant during our first visit. But I could tell he was used to playing a role—one he had likely rehearsed for every new CASA, caseworker, or probation officer in his life. He had seen a revolving door of authority figures, each just checking a box. So I told him then and there: I wasn’t going anywhere unless he wanted me to. I said, “If you're 38 and want advice, I hope you'll feel you can call me—like I’m family.” Before I left, he gave me a hug. With guidance from my CASA supervisor, I connected with his PAL (Preparation for Adult Living) coordinator, and together we scheduled a meeting at the Gervin Academy, a credit-recovery program. We gathered with his teacher, an administrator, his foster mom, and his PAL coordinator to explore his education options. He lit up with motivation and committed to putting in the effort to earn his high school diploma—his target: September 2026. His PAL coordinator provided a laptop for at-home schoolwork. Soon after, his parole officer—so impressed with his progress—spoke positively about him in court, and his probation was lifted. He told me, “I don’t want anything to do with that life anymore—no drugs, no fighting, no stealing.” He’s focused on his future and dreams of starting his own business. Gervin Academy enrolled him in life skills courses with Uber transportation to and from class—and even paid him to attend, like an internship. His PAL coordinator also enrolled him in an independent living program that will eventually offer him his own apartment or a shared living space. We often talk about how our surroundings influence us, and how wise decision-making is critical at this stage. Once he earns his diploma, he’ll be eligible to pursue HVAC certification at St. Philip’s College. We also scheduled an appointment at SA Threads, a nonprofit that provides new clothes, shoes, backpacks, and hygiene items to foster youth. He left with bags of essentials and the biggest smile. We got him a state ID, and he felt grown-up placing it in his new wallet next to his debit card from a local bank that allows 17-year-olds to open personal accounts. He was so proud. He confided in me about mental health struggles, including the antidepressants he was prescribed in juvenile detention—medications that left him feeling like a zombie. He’d been given the same prescriptions again but had stopped taking them, and said he felt better. I submitted a recommendation to the judge requesting a medication reassessment, and his therapist eventually discontinued the prescriptions. He thanked me and told me he felt like himself again—and I could see his trust in the system beginning to rebuild. There have been tough moments, too. I had to file a report with CPS about his 15-year-old girlfriend living in the foster home. Though his foster mom allowed it, the girl’s mother had said she wouldn’t take her back. CPS intervened, supported the reunification of the girl with her mother, and she eventually went home. Although they’re “just friends” now, I know he still loves her. That can be healthy with the right guidance. I’ve taken the opportunity to talk with him about respect, boundaries, and how to treat others in a relationship. I often use “brother” as a term of endearment. One day while I was speaking with him, he interrupted me and said, “Dan, you’re more like my dad.” His foster mom later told me he had never had a male figure in his life—especially not one who showed him how to become a man. We talk regularly and spend time together often. Sure, he’s still into tattoos, sagging his pants, silver grillz (“8-on-8,” as he says), and envisions big gold chains in his future—but I love that kid. I’m proud of the man he’s becoming. He teaches me as much as I hope I’m teaching him. Being a CASA Advocate means that while I am advocating the needs of my child, I’m also their mentor, and mentorship must come from love. If I love the child, then I see their future and am excited for them. They will be excited with me and now we can set milestones to get there. For example, asking them who they are in 10 or 15 years from now. Let them fantasize about an amazingly successful version of them in the future and enforce that it can be a reality. Now, teach them the steps to getting there and the immediate priorities. Education, accountability as in faith and family, and behavior that will build or destroy that future for them. Remind them through the process of the future themselves and the spouse and children that depend on their "now" decisions. Celebrate every milestone achievement! And most importantly, our children are used to inconsistency, so show them what consistency means.
Mark Jackson
